


Things That Never Go Away

by resident_longwinded_anon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hellhounds, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tumblr ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:33:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resident_longwinded_anon/pseuds/resident_longwinded_anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hellhounds and cuddling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Never Go Away

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [on Tumblr](http://resident-longwinded-anon.tumblr.com/post/112012281106/things-that-never-go-away). Basically my dig at the show for not including enough post-Hellhound trauma.
> 
> Title from A Place Only You Can Go by Needtobreathe. ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pj7dXa1pD-k))
> 
> Takes place anytime post-series, but could be read as taking place post-season 8.

They’re on a hunt in the Colorado wilderness when it happens, just the two of them - Sam is back at the bunker, still in bed with the stupid flu. It was supposed to be easy, just getting rid of a gang of demons that’d been stealing people’s pets. Dean didn’t even want to go.

Cas wishes he had listened. Oh, god, does he wish he had listened.

"Are you okay?" he asks again, trying to keep his focus on Dean and not on the chorus of barking around him. He should’ve realized, goddammit. He _knows_ how hellhounds are made, and he still - he didn’t -

Dean moans and tries to shift out of his arms.

"Shh," Cas says, petting his hair. "It’s alright."

More barking sounds, much closer to them this time. Dean’s eyes are opened but unseeing, and there isn’t anywhere for Cas to run, so he slots his back against the pine tree and tries not to cry. (If they die out here, if they’re torn into tiny fleshy pieces and buried under the snow, nobody will ever find them. Sam will never know what happened to them.)

"Dean!" Cas hits him, with as much force as he can justify. "Just wake up, dammit. Come on."

He’s an idiot. He’s a monstrous, gigantic idiot who couldn’t add two plus two together, and now Dean’s hallucinating and they’re both going to die. (Maybe it’s better this way, if Dean doesn’t have to feel it again, if he can just slip into death the same way he slips into his jeans in the morning.)

But no, he can’t think that way. Thinking that way leads no where good. (And he’s been there before, too, but - )

"Dean!"

There’s thumping in the cacaphony now, mixed with the barks and the howls. They’re so close, too close.

If he can’t save himself, he needs to save Dean.

He can’t see hellhounds, not since he fell, but he doesn’t need to see them to keep Dean safe. He just - he needs to - he’ll figure something out -

The tree. They’ll climb the tree. “Dean?” he says, shaking the man as hard as he dares. Dean’s head flops side to side. He’s obviously not waking up. “Okay,” Cas says to himself. “Okay.” He stands up and swings Dean over the lowest branch. His shoulder cracks against a knobbly part, but now is not the time for gentleness. Now is the time to hurry.

The hellhounds are getting closer, too close. He doesn’t have enough time for this, not to haul Dean up and figure out how to climb the tree himself - oh, God, he misses his wings something fierce - but he has to. He has to. He has to.

 

Dean doesn’t wake up even once the hellhounds are gone. Cas needs to carry him down the tree, back to the car, and into the motel room. It’s not until he’s up to his chin in blankets that he seems to truly sleep, the shakiness from the nightmares dissipating.

Cas sits next to him for a while, watching the little red numbers on the alarm clock flick from 3:00 to 5:00 to 8:00, but around the time the sun rises, he finds himself with a pressing need to use the bathroom.

He ghosts his hand through Dean’s hair when he stands. He keeps the door open in the bathroom, so he can hear if Dean’s dreams get violent again.

It’s as he’s zipping up that he hears Dean’s voice. “Cas?” he asks, distant and sleepy. Then, again, “Cas,” but more insistent this time. By the time Cas is done washing his hands, Dean is shouting his name so loud the mirror rattles in its frame.

Cas rushes out of the bathroom, not bothering to towel his hands dry. “I’m here,” he calls, falling into the chair next to Dean’s bed. “Are you okay?”

Dean gives him a look. “Do I look okay?”

His eyes are wide and bloodshot, his hair soaked with melted snow and sweat. His fingers clench and unclench absently, like he’s looking for something to fight or something to hold.

"No," Cas says. And then, "I’m sorry."

"Why the hell are you sorry?" Dean seems almost angry.

"The hellhounds. I should’ve realized that’s what was happening here. I never should have let you come."

"Oh. That." Dean’s gaze shutters. "It’s not that big of a deal, man."

"You almost died. It was - it would’ve been my fault." He licks his lips. "I’m - I’m sorry."

"Seriously. Dude. Don’t worry about it."

"You hallucinated, Dean. For almost an hour. I knew you had history with hellhounds, I knew that’s how you reacted to them, I just can’t believe I was so stupid - "

"Hey, Cas, shh, shh." Dean reaches for his hands. "I’m alright. I’m not mad. You can stop now."

It’s only when Dean stills his hands that Cas realizes they were shaking. “I was just - so worried, Dean.”

"I know. I know. Come on, get in bed."

"I - "

"Dude, you’re the one that likes cuddling. Bed. Now. You’re not going to stop fretting until you know I’m really okay, so come on."

Cas climbs in. It’s another in a series of too-uncomfortable motel beds, but with Dean next to him it doesn’t feel that bad. His breathing steadies as Dean strokes a hand up and down his arm.

"There," he says. "You’re doing okay. Keep breathing, see?"

Cas pulls him closer and nestles his head against Dean’s chest, where he can hear his heartbeat. Dean chuckles a little and moves his hand so he’s stroking Cas’s hair.

A little while passes until either of them speak again. “I’m sorry,” Cas says.

Dean shifts so he can look Cas in his eyes. Cas fights the urge to look away. “I already told you, you don’t need to - “

"No, I’m not sorry about that. I’m sorry that you had to go through it all in the first place. It’s not fair, Dean. You’re too - you’re too good for it. You were then, and you still are, and I just can’t bear it sometimes."

"I know, sweetheart," Dean says. "Me either." He sighs, his breath puffing warm against Cas’s neck. "We’ll make it through, though. You know it."

"Mm-hmm." Cas leans his head forward so his forehead bumps against Dean’s. "I love you."

"Yeah," Dean breathes. "Right back atcha."


End file.
